Procol Harum

Beyond
the Pale

Procol Harum at Brønnøysund, Norway

Concert review 17/18 July 2009 • Roland
from BtP

Gary Brooker was adamant that we should not refer to Brønnøysund’s waterfront venue – home of the Roots Festival – as ‘a cod-smoking shed’: ‘You don’t smoke cod,’ he insisted,
‘you dry it.’ Gathering beforehand, several Palers from as far afield as
England, California and Oman had eaten a good meal of cod, in order to be
appropriately fortified for Procol Harum’s first gig in eighteen months. Previously we’d had a good chat with Procol at the hotel where fans and
musicians alike were staying: in fact the BtP webmasters had been filmed
greeting the band on their arrival, and this was
broadcast on Norwegian
television (along with excerpted interview clips from Jens in Norwegian and
Roland (unsurprisingly) in his native Engelsk).Questions about why one had come so far were the order of the day. I
don’t know if Procol were asked why they had come so far!

Now it was 11.15 pm and we moved along the waterfront, under a perfectly light
sky, to the fishworks. It was packed, not only with music fans but also with
curious old machines and a fascinating array of broken tubas, euphoniums,
sousaphones and what-have-you. It would be fair to say that the youngish crowd
was extremely excited perhaps not solely by the prospect of great music.

An hour’s wait ensued, during which time the crowd at the press barrier
grew more and more lively and – frankly – ponderous: I have never been so
leant-upon at a gig. Webmaster Jens, armed with his posh new Nikon camera and a
press pass, suffered no such indignities. Procol were to take the stage at 0015
hrs, by which time a good proportion of the audience was thoroughly lubricated;
despite the unusual setting, the atmosphere was reminiscent of a college gig in
the 70s.

Ron and Jonny, Procol Harum’s technical team of choice, could be glimpsed
through the dense dry ice busily setting up the band’s gear: Geoff’s Yamaha
kit, Marshall amplification for Geoff Whitehorn (Hughes and Kettner could not
supply his habitual rig, this close to the Arctic Circle), Gary’s Yamaha CP
piano and the digital Hammond XP3 (in its elaborate, fake cabinet) for Josh. A
microphone for Josh was an unexpected extra … more of that later. We wondered
what sort of set was in store. Would it be a 'greatest hits' package, designed
to please the non-specialist festival crowd? Gary Brooker had been sitting in front
of the hotel with his folder of songs, making notes and designing the set list,
but of course no fan would consider asking for forward hints … even the band doesn’t
know what they'll be playing until shortly before the show.

Eventually manager Chris Cooke appeared, haloed in an eerie backlight, and
surveyed the scene with apparent satisfaction. The press and marketing
guru for the festival was standing by, script in hand, to handle introductory duties, but his cue
never came.At exactly midnight-fifteen
the festival headliners, Procol Harum, took to the stage, with minimal
ceremony, to the cacophonous and delighted whistling of the multitude, and
within moments the deliciousstrains of
a surprising opener were heard: Broken Barricades. This was played much like the hallowed record, with
none of the experimental touches that were to grace many familiar favourites
later in the evening, until the neat, two-stage ending. Geoff Dunn delivered
some startling syncopations and eruptions (‘he’s very good at explosions’ said
Gary afterwards), and Josh provided the glittering ostinato from his Motif
keyboard. The playout … a good minute-and-a-half, I reckon … was home to some long-drawn
upward bends from Geoff Whitehorn’s guitar. An exciting concert was under way.

It wasn’t possible to identifythe next
song from its opening electric piano notes, but as the tune swung in it was
clearly One Eye on the Future in an
interesting and effective new arrangement. The feel was unquantifiably
different, good work had been done on the fretmen’s backing-vocal, and it was
warmly received. The Commander was in good voice – the final verse was sung
high, departing from the melody – though the band sound was not quite in
balance: it was many hours since soundcheck and Matt thoughthemighthave been suffering
from 'aeroplane ears’ in the afternoon.
But Graham Ewins soon got the measure of the acoustic and the balance came
under his control. The song ended with repeated hollers of ‘One eye’ from the
stage, no doubt appreciated by Procol’s ubiquitous Los Angeleno fan, Al
‘One-Eye’ Edelist, who had probably come furthest of all the fans present.

Next
up was Homburg, the familiar
arrangement complete with the long-standing Whitehorn tick-tock guitar gimmick
in verse two (it reverses when the clock hands turn backwards). Gone is the
Fisher-style Baroqueelaboration of the
final chorus (we were treated to three) but the band cohered well, driving the
piece along. The modulating ending didn’t quite pack the dramatic punch it had when
I first heard this song played on stage … but no doubt many who were having
their first exposure to the live band tonight would have felt differently.
Gary’s television spot had alleged that Procol might be ‘rusty’ – an impression
Jens was able to overturn on his own address to camera. (click
here to view the BtP team, and Gary Brooker, on Norwegian TV)

A
brief mention of talk-show ‘big shots’ (Gary wasn’t particularly voluble with
the crowd) introduced TV Ceasar, a
chord-heavy number which went well. Whitehorn’s offbeat guitar clips were
savage and his solo (the first half remaining very close to Mick Grabham’s
definitive template) was furiously accented. To start with, we were hearing a
lot of Geoff’s guitar straight from the cabinet, not through the PA: how Graham
overcame this imbalance I don’t know, but he did it. Josh’s organ solo veered
between chordal and linear work, Gary was in excellent voice. The piece sported
a new, neat ending; in general endings seemed to have been carefully and very
effectively worked on in three days’ rehearsal (one of which, we learnt, had
been partly devoted to reggae treatments of pieces such as Grieg’s In the Hall of the Mountain King which
it would be nice to have heard … we’d passed the very spot, on our three-day
journey from Bristol to this remote purlieu).

Gary Brooker warned the audience that ‘some of the endings might go wrong, some
of the beginnings might go wrong, we might forget words, we might forget
chords’… but he suffered no such difficulties,
at least to this listener’s ears … and Procol’s set sounded like a practised,
well oiled tour-date rather than a first reunion following an eighteen-month
sabbatical.

When
Gary announcedthe first of three ‘songs
all having the same word in the title’ the true fans knew that Pandora’s Box, Robert’s Box and Shadow Boxed
would be forthcoming. Few, I guess, foresaw Gary’s droll, neat pun at the end
of the trilogy … ‘There we are, Box Set’, he laconically explained.

Pandora’s Box had a new and slightly more leisurely feel, Geoff Dunn
supplying nice transitional fills into verse two. Whitehorn’s feedback sustain
– accomplished without pedals or gizmos, just by finding ‘the sweet spot in the
room’ – was exemplary, as was Josh’s standing Hammond solo at the end (prefaced
by a Hispanic piano sequence reminiscent of the-Solley era Pandora).

Robert’s Box was wondrous: Geoff … himself decorated in an unusually
psychedelic tee-shirt … decorated verse two with some exposed bottlenecking,
and Josh inserted effective downward glissandi where formerly we’d been
accustomed to silences. The ‘Aloha’ backing voices came through well, and the
finale …. ‘Just a pinch to ease the pain’ … evinced that classic syndrome where
one really felt that something was happening on stage that wasn’t in the
control of any individual player: the Procol organism, dormant for eighteen
months, was up there working its magic, with these five men as the limbs and
voices through which it made its glorious presence felt. The fourth and final
iteration of that powerful sequence broughtforth Josh’s Motif horn melody, which in turn ushered in the powerful
13-bar coda … strange to recall that the song was originally toured, in Dave Ball’s
time, without that additional drama which now seems so integral to the song.

Shadow Boxed didn’t have the same dynamic variation it used to
exhibit on the 2003 tour: but it had power to spare, and was very exciting.
Josh led with Motif electric piano sounds, pounding eight to the bar (whereas the
record, and earlier stage versions, start with sizzling guitar). Matt Pegg’s
bass was lively, delivering some inspired runs, the whole piece was raucously
exciting and the band ended dead together without apparent collusion … so much
for ‘rusty’!

Following
a characteristic apology for not speaking Norwegian , and a reference to the
local geological curiosity, a substantial cliff rock with a hole in it, Gary
made a dedication ‘to Icelandic bankers’: what followed was a brutal Wall Street Blues, dark and heavy with
lots of holes where just drums and Pegg’s authoritative bass held the texture
together. Gary’s singing was passionate, his piano break extremely tasty.
Whitehorn’s guitar, so long confined to delivering his great riff, broke into
an adventurous solo further spiced by judicious delay applied from the desk. He
built tension tremendously, and Geoff Dunn was consistently innovative and
dynamic in the classic mould of Procol Harum drumming, while still being very
much himself: tight, tasteful, somehow both unshowy and riveting. The ending of
this arrangement involved some half-speed gear-changes … I’d need to hear it
again to be sure quite what was going on: so much the better!

Barnyard Story followed. It came
straight in with those amazingly mournful chords, and Brooker sang with great
feeling: it was almost a solo piece, such was the delicacy of his cohort’s
contributions. The rowdy audience was fairly rapidly stilled (though a minor
unisex punch-up took place in the front row – sorry for originally reporting
that this was during Grand Hotel)).
But Barnyard Story, formerly so
swiftly over, came to a false conclusion with some solo piano reminiscent of The Death March before the blossoming afresh, with amazing volume, with a piercing guitar solo
over the 'Olympus' chords. This marvellous effect (first heard a couple of
years ago, also in Norway) drew tears of delight from various eyes in the crowd
near where I was standing. Gary sang the conclusion again, when the guitar and
mighty organ had died away … even though a premature ovation smudged the
returning vocal, it was outstandingly stirring. After the show Geoff was saying
that he really came to Procol through the Home album, and longed to do Dead
Man's Dream … a logical extension of the mournful Barnyard Story. He
recalled Procol's having played it extempore at Beyond the Pale's 2001 party at Salford: surely this outstanding new line-up must tackle it again.

The
next number was Sister Mary, which has been heard in inchoate form at various soundchecks since it was part-written at the era of
The Well’s on Fire.
It seemed to have found its final form at St John's Smith Square for the 40th
anniversary celebrations, but in fact Procol Harum now presented it in a
greatly-evolved state. It started with dreamy noodling in a Rhodesy vein from
Gary, and involved a lot of stops and starts; Geoff and Matt intoned some very mysterious
liturgical mumbles, over which Gary occasionally blurted individual words,
before the song really took off. Questioned in the hospitality room afterwards, all
members of the band were evasive about this wording and its origins: 'We're in
Gregorian mode' was the most informative answer I got! Obviously we hope to
hear this intriguing song again. Its occasional oriental semitones in the guitar
were intriguing, and its length … about ten minutes … suggested that the band
was enjoying it as much as we were. It has a jazzy feel in places, and Geoff
Dunn, hot from his jazz gigs at Montreal, was in his element. Perhaps the IF ancestry
of the other Geoff also contributed something to his jazzy facility, in a long
exploratory solo. Whereas Geoff W got to trade solo lines with Gary in London, he
now sings only harmony, and Brooker continuously handles the curious story of
Sister Mary and Brother Michael. But Geoff informed us after the show that he
is off to Frankfurt shortly, to play and sing at an all-star Blues affair … so
his solo voice will still be heard. 'I don’t know what that one's called,' said
Gary, when it was all over.

Gary solicited audienceparticipation for Beyond the Pale,
which was discharged per the record, with extra Dunn spice, and without the latter-day
Fisher organ inserts, reminiscent of a barrel organ perhaps, which we first
heard at Guildford in 2000. The piano took the mandolin spranglings, and
Whitehorn stayed true to Grabham’s template in terms of the guitar
counterpoints that decorate the latter part of the song. There was some clumsy
dancing, lunging about even, at the front of the audience, though there was really
not enough space! Quite a good contingent shouted ‘Oy’ from the audience as the
song concluded, yet Procol took the ending again, and this time the response
was overwhelming.

‘This is a tale of missing persons’. The song, which seems to have been
merely a newly-written sketch when it was heard at BtP’s 40th party
in London in July 2007, is now a shapely number, starting with classic B3
elaboration of the harmonies in the style of a brief two-part invention. The
plaintive Brooker evocation of the various missing persons in Reid’s touching
lyric (the more touching for the Palers who had been discussing the
disappearance of once-active members from the Beanstalk, the Procol Harum chat
list). The song is pitched high and Brooker's voice cuts through well; Matt and
Geoff contribute significantly to the backing vocal which has an antiphonal
quality. It was interesting to see Josh suddenly swinging the mic towards him
and also contributing to the harmonising: it’s a very long time since we saw a
Procol organist singing from the bench! Geoff's arpeggiated guitar, high up the
neck, contributes a lot of additional weight to the texture. Gary told me
afterwards that, now that this song has evolved some interesting key changes,
it’s the hardest of his compositions to play: shifting up a tone, one encounters
chords that have previously been used, at the lower pitch, but in a different context.
'You try it,' he added, a challenge I’ll be delighted to take up.

Grand Hotel was played in the
familiar way, everyone pulling their weight to evoke a world somewhat different
from the ambience of the hotels at Brønnøysund … which were nonetheless
adequate homes from home for pilgrims who had, after all, not really come this
far north for creature comforts. Geoff Dunn's entry was powerful and solid,
though his ensuing snare work had a BJ-like delicacy. The French backing vocals
were delivered with a certain self-mockery, especially with Geoff’s music-hall
‘Ritzah’. Gary almost started the piano‘s rising accelerando in the wrong key (the
two versions, which bookend the gypsy theme, are in different keys) but made a
seamless recovery. The fretmen gooned lightly during the gypsy interlude but
the song resumed its monumental gravity with Geoff’s guitar solo. ‘These
Norwegian girls like to fight’ joked Gary, not having been aware of the earlier
fracas at the front, which exactly bore out his allegation.

But that was not the only ruction. During Cerdes, which followed, the fan directly in front of your
correspondent keeled over and smote his skull against the concrete floor. By the
time the venue staff had arrived, nonplussed by his supine form, another punter
had also collapsed. Whether this was due to the heat or to some other agency I
don’t know: Gary commented afterwards that ‘Cerdes can do that to people.’ So my
attention was not wholly focused at the start of what soon turned out to be a
spectacular reading of the classic song. Gary gave the early lines a Dylanesque
inflection, but otherwise all sounded very much as it had in 1967. Dunn delighted
in the occasional unpredictably accented passages, and the songbuilt to the guitar solo. This was nothing
like Trower’s. Though it was nonetheless melodic, it ended with some ferocious
speed-widdling, and earned good applause. The band brought everything down for
the final verse with its wraiths and Christian scientists; Geoff set up a two-note ostinato as the vocal ended, and this gradually developed into a second
solo, higher than the first, in which he put his signature guitar through its
paces and elicited a forest of mobile phones recording his every gesture.
Perhaps some of that footage will come in to 'Beyond the Pale'? The song ended
with a delayed cadence and some final guitaring … let us hope this piece stays
in the repertoire as the new Whitehorn showcase … a role formerly held by the
upbeat, Supertrampified As Strong as Samson.

And with that Procol Harum left the stage
– it was 1.40 am though, that
far North, not in the least dark. The applause was continuous for many minutes
during which time a chant of ‘we want more’ evolved.

‘This song’s been around a long time,’ said Gary, launching into No Woman no Cry, with which the
cod-drying shed was soon resounding. As expected, terrific applause greeted the
emergence from this of the words ‘We skipped the light fandango’ … there was no
organ prelude. Josh did, however, honour the Fisher contributions to this
famous song, and the Hammond growled through authentically between the verses –
Josh likes to hold the high notes a fraction longer than we expect, giving a
fresh and attractive effect without disturbing the original elegant line.
Procol played only the conventional two verses, but Gary invited the crowd to
sing at the end, which we loudly did, both words and organ melody. The song
ended with the old fashioned cadence, not the little piano A minor excursion

‘We are Procol Harum. You’ve been a lovely crowd, thank you for having
us.’ The band left the stage after a good ninety minutes’ of unique
entertainment, to cries of A Salty Dog
and Conquistador … as it happens, two numbers that had been on the set list
but which time had not permitted.

Following
the show, there was socialising and merriment backstage, and a few Palers
wandered home along the waterfront at about 3.45 in full daylight. As I went to
bed, just before six, Geoff and Matt were sitting out at the front of the
hotel in bright sun, watching the 'casualties' staggering home.